


Can't Get No Love

by aletheahiraeth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Pepper Potts, Canon?, For reasons, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I suppose I could google this, I've been editing this so I keep having to add tags, Pepper Potts is a badass, Sorry Not Sorry, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, also, am I spelling that right?, but before iron man 1, but like i said, but um, enjoy, even though I'm pretty sure, i got carried away, in canon, in fact we burn it to the ground, in this house we ignore canon, not miami, oh well, or cannon, pepper and Tony live in new york, so that's where we're at, they would have been in Miami, this was originally only going to be one part, we're ignoring canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletheahiraeth/pseuds/aletheahiraeth
Summary: Not a lot gets to Pepper Potts. But her sister Saffron's untimely death takes her home to New York after several years abroad, running from her demons. An old friend and job offer later and she's suddenly moved back home, intent on fixing up and subsequently selling Saffron's old farmhouse. Seeing as nothing ever seem's to go her way, she shouldn't be surprised when her whole world has suddenly been turned upside down upon meeting Tony Stark.orhow Pepper met Tony and met her match.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Pepper Potts & James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OOF it's been a minute since I've written anything. I'm highly debating deleting my old stuff and rewriting it because yikes, I could have used an edit here and there. Anyways, I finally got a new computer and have been feeling really nostalgic after wandavision (let me tell you about PINING. ugh, my heart hurts. that's how you know it was good.) Also, I doubt anyone reads these things, but I enjoy writing them. Anyways, I read a fic back when I had originally been on AO3 that built on Tony and Pepper's relationship and goddamn did it inspire me. I'm gonna try to dig and find it because it was so damn good and so I can shout the author out. But basically it was a different take on Tony and Pepper's meeting etc. and it inspired me to come up with some of my own version. So, fuck canon. 
> 
> Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy p a i n. And pining. And semi-unrequited love. And hurt feelings. Do you ever write a fic full of just hurt? Yeah, me neither. Whoops. Okay, I'll stop rambling. 
> 
> (Also the title is based off of the cover of No Scrub by Bastille. That shit slaps. Check it out.)

People had always said Pepper was not one to acquire friends easily. And, she supposed, that was true. She’d always felt, specifically during the events that lead to Tony becoming Iron Man, that gaining friends was a little bit like giving pieces of yourself away. She was not the kind of woman who was comfortable baring parts of herself to the world, which is partly why she’d taken the job as Tony’s assistant.

In all honesty, the job had kind of fallen into her lap. She hadn’t been actively looking for it. In fact, she’d been actively looking to avoid moving back to New York, what with all her history there, but her year as an art curator in Paris had eventually lead her back home with the news of her younger sister’s untimely death. To be fair, she’d planned on going back to Paris as soon as she’d wrapped up all the affairs involved with Saffron’s death, but she’d run into her old boss, the one who had introduced her to her current boss, and they’d got to talking.

“Listen, Virginia,” She couldn’t stand when people looked at her like that, she thought. Like sympathy and sorrow all wrapped up in a sweet package that was bound to end in an uncomfortable hug. Marion was one of the few people she actually allowed to hug her, so she put up with it when the older woman pulled her thin frame into warm arms, a tight smile lacing its way across her features. Marion stepped back, relinquishing her grip a bit, but keeping a firm hold on her shoulders as she tutted. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Pepper had ducked her head at this, hair falling like a curtain over her face. She forced a smile to grace her lips and nodded her thanks. Marion continued on, never one for common courtesy. It was definitely one of the things Pepper enjoyed most about the older woman, she was a no-holds-barred kind of businesswoman and said what she meant, at all times. No matter how it was going to make someone else feel. Marion just didn’t really care, unless it came at the expense of her paycheck. “I just think you should know, I have a job you might be interested.” Ah, Marion. Apparently even a funeral couldn’t stop her from talking business, if she deemed it necessary. “You’re definitely over qualified for it,” She barreled on, eyebrow winging up at a thought Pepper was clearly not privy to. “I have sent this man six curators and he has somehow managed to make every single one of them quit. He’s an asshole of the worst proportion.” Pepper let out a short bark of laughter at that. Great, right up her alley. Asshole men? She could handle. She’d been handling them, all her life. Dear old dad was her first go ‘round with that experience.

Marion smiled, crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes crinkling at Pepper’s snort and patted her cheeks gently. “Let me know if you’re interested. After all this, of course.” She had gestured vaguely behind Pepper, where Saffron’s remains sat in an urn, surrounded by flowers. Pepper bit the inside of her cheek, color rising on her cheekbones, and nodded. Marion shook her head, muttering. “Six. Can you believe that? Six of my best curators. Well, not counting you, of course.” As she toddled off and away, leaving Pepper to deal with the next round of people who had come to offer their condolences.

It only took Pepper four days to get back to Marion about the potential job.

She was mad at herself, in retrospect. Mad that she’d fled the states so suddenly, leaving her sister to die by herself. Mad that she’d thought she could have a life outside of the legacy her father had left her.

So, she’d decided she would stay.

It was easier to move back, after that. Her apartment in Paris was on a month-to-month basis due to the fact that she was constantly travelling to find her boss the next latest and greatest piece that would catch his, and any guest he deemed worthy’s, attention.

Saffron had left their father’s estate to her, in her will, which Pepper had learned she’d had drawn up about two weeks before she’d passed.

The house was in utter disarray, what with Saffron having lived in the hospital for the better part of that year, but Pepper didn’t really mind. She’d always had a knack at fixing things that other people had broken, even if it tended to be at the expense of herself.

She spent those four days after Saffron’s death tearing the house to its bones. She wanted to get of any inkling of their father that the house held within its walls. Any piece of Saffron she could preserve, she would. Anything of Richard’s, on the other hand, could be forgotten with the flow of time, for all she cared. The only history recorded of him could be the police reports. She was okay with that. Really, she was.

When she had ripped the cracked, decaying wallpaper off the sturdy wood beneath it, and stripped the terrible varnish from what had once been shining wooden floors and stared at the heaping mess of a ruined house before her, she realized this was a project that was going to take a lot of time, and a lot of money. So, she tucked her hair into a bandana, hands on her hips and called Marion.

Marion, who blessedly, picked up after two rings.

“Hey, Pepper. Wondering about that giant ass I told you about?” She left corner of Pepper’s mouth curled up, ever-so-slight.

“You know I’m a sucker for men who think they can hurt my feelings.”

“Oh darlin’, aren’t we all?” Marion chuckled into her ear, right as her phone buzzed, a name, phone number and email in her texts.

“Thanks, Mar.” She whispered into the line.

“No problem, sugar. Let me know how it goes. I’m willing to bet you’ll last a good three weeks before he somehow manages to run you off.” Pepper’s mouth quirked once more, that little half smile. Only time would tell. 

Marion was right in one aspect. Pepper did last three weeks, but during the duration of that time, she didn’t have a single run in with her infamous boss, Anthony Edward Stark.

Sure, she heard the rumors that floated through her office.

_Man whore._

_Bastard._

_Merchant of Death._

_Howard Stark’s Biggest Shame._

She knew how much weight words carried. How much they could hurt, when flung at you by someone who is supposed to love you most. So, she kept her head down. She ignored all the office gossip. To be fair, they didn’t really try to include her anyways. She was only a lowly art curator, after all. She helped decorate the offices, and the new buildings Mr. Stark was opening, it wasn’t like she was _that_ important. Frankly, Stark wasn’t really her boss; only in the most formal of terms. Sure, he wrote her paycheck, but she’d yet to meet him in her three-week stint. Jason, the man she reported too for every piece she bought, told her that was probably a good thing.

He also happened to be one of the assholes who name-called Anthony every chance he got.

And look, it wasn’t like Pepper had never had a bad boss. Hell, the two she’d had before her Paris job could have given her father a run for his money when it came to shitty people. But, she’d yet to meet the infamous Mr. Stark, and to be completely frank, as long as her checks didn’t bounce, she didn’t really care how the man acted. It was out of her realm of concern.

Until, one late autumn day.

She’d been working for Stark Industries for about two months at that point, and any money that didn’t get spent on groceries and bills immediately went into savings for her renovation of Saffron’s house. She preferred to think of it as Saffron’s, and not Richard’s, because at least that way she could sleep easier in the house that once gave her nightmares.

However, on that particularly chilly October night, she’d decided to stay late. A new office was opening that following Monday, and despite the fact that it was Friday, and Jason had let her entire division go home early for the night, she didn’t really want to leave. Not to an empty house that smelled like sawdust and paint and who’s ghost were caught in the pages of the books by her sister’s bedside table and in the empty kitchen that reminded her of sleepy Saturday mornings long forgotten. Instead, she was here, pouring over the designs, and trying to decide exactly where she was going to put the latest pieces that had gotten Jason’s approval. She was so focused, she didn’t even hear the door squeak open and only noticed the man sitting down at the desk across from her, when she brushed the curtain of her hair out of her eyes.

Anthony Stark sat across from her, legs propped up on the desk of whatever poor soul he’d decided to claim, popping what appeared to be peanut M&M’s into his mouth as he watched her. If he was expecting Pepper to jump, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she stood, crossing her arms across her chest and lifted an eyebrow.

“You must be Mr. Stark.”

“Tony.” He corrected, immediately. Pepper didn’t acknowledge this, instead, she gathered up her papers, neatly arranging them before slipping them into her satchel, Mr. Stark— _Tony,_ watching her every move. “And just who, might you be?” he asked. Pepper cleared her throat and met his gaze, head on.

“Virginia Potts, sir.” Tony tilted his head at this, and Pepper couldn’t help but think of how small he looked. Legacies really did make men seem bigger than they ultimately were, she thought. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Tony looked around the room, seemingly noting how everyone else was gone, before pulling out a pair of sunglasses and slipping them over his eyes, despite the darkness outside. Pepper refused to let a reaction write itself across her face, instead choosing to simply observe.

“Virginia, huh? Not a common name,” Stark sniffed, then threw the yellow package of his snack into the trashcan under the desk, rising suddenly.

“It’s a family name.” She responded, watching him in kind. Mr. Stark nodded at this, and Pepper tilted her head.

“So, Ms. Potts. Any clue who’s been picking out the god-awful artwork these idiots are trying to hang in my buildings?” Pepper felt heat rise in her cheeks. Well. That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear from your boss upon your first meeting.

To be fair, the pieces Jason had claimed Mr. Stark liked were, well, god-awful. It had been enough of an idea to point her in the right direction of his choice of style, so, really, she’d been going off of what she’d been told. She’d been wondering who in their right mind had this kind of taste, but as long as her check cleared, it wasn’t really her place to say anything. Needless to say, it was hard to properly curate art for a boss who wasn’t ever there. But if Mr. Stark didn’t like the art she was using to decorate his buildings, then whose style was she tailoring her eye to?

She realized she seemed a little lost in her thoughts, so she cleared her throat again.

“That would be me, Mr. Stark.” He raised an eyebrow at that, and although she couldn’t see it behind his dark sunglasses, she could feel his eyes assessing her, fully. She forced herself to stand still. It wasn’t the first time she’d been looked up and down by a man. It certainly wouldn’t be last, either. Something about Tony’s gaze didn’t make her want to crawl out her skin though. His observation wasn’t creepy, like the gaze of other men she’d dealt with. It felt like he could see all the way through her, down to her bones. The kind of stare that was made known and made one feel known. She didn’t think anyone else had ever looked at her like that before.

When he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he flopped back into the chair, kicking his feet up once again, looking over the rim of his glasses.

“Who on earth let you be an art curator?” His tone was curious, despite the unkind words, but Pepper refused to let him get under her skin.

“I actually have a degree in accounting. I minored in art history. You probably wouldn’t know the school.” Tony hums at this, pushing the glasses back up his nose.

“So, you’re an art curator with an accounting degree. You don’t generally hear that.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, leaning back further in his chair, to the point that Pepper worries he’s going to tip over. He doesn’t. Instead, he drops the legs of the chair forward, landing hard and runs a hand through his dark hair. “Would it help if I offered you a job in accounting rather than curating art for me? Jason’s probably my least favorite employee and I’m pretty sure he’s the one approving the art. Probably to spite me.” He shrugs, a smile tugging impishly at his lips. Pepper tilts her head, considering. “I’ll double whatever your current salary is. Plus, the benefits are better in accounting. I think. Honestly, Hillary would have to confirm that, but,” he blows out a breath, “I don’t know, Potts. Something about you is telling me I should keep you around.” He stands again, walking leisurely around the desk. Pepper watches him, waiting. “So?” he asks, leaning against her desk, mirroring her crossed arms. Pepper tilts her head again, finally, nodding slowly.

A raise isn’t a bad thing. Even if accounting isn’t exactly her favorite thing, she _did_ go to school for it. Besides, it would probably be a little more stable that art curating. Especially considering her boss doesn’t even seem to like the things she’s been picking out for him the past two months.

“Alright, Mr. Stark.” A beaming smile breaks out across his face so suddenly, Pepper is almost blinded by the warmth it radiates.

“Excellent, Ms. Potts. I’ll see you Monday.” And just as suddenly as he appeared, he’s gone.

Another month passes before their next conversation.

It’s a little surprising, frankly, because she now works on the same floor as him. In fact, his office is barely down the hall. Also a little surprising, because she thought he’d be the type to have a private office. He is the CEO after all. Instead, his office is a few yards away from hers, with walls made of glass, where all of his employees can see what he’s doing.

Which is to say, not much. On the days that he’s actually there, he looks bored. Generally, he naps, or tosses around one of those little stress balls. Pepper finds herself observing him more than she probably ought to, but she can’t help it. She’s always been good at figuring people out, but Mr. Stark is a bit of an enigma. He has this reputation that he can’t seem to shake, but everything she’s seen of him, has pointed her to a completely different conclusion of his character. On the other hand, she knows all too well how deceiving appearances can be.

On one particularly boring day, where Mr. Stark had decided to nap for the past four hours, not counting the most recent one where Colonel Rhodes came in and started his muffled yelling and gesturing, she catches a mistake in one of the bank statements she’s going through. She almost misses it at first, but Pepper’s a stickler for detail. As soon as she catches it, her eyes widen. There’s absolutely _no way_ he meant to pay that much for this, well, whatever it is. She doesn’t speak technological jargon, but she does know that there’s about two too many zeros on this statement and the deadline to get it fixed, she realizes, glancing down at the time on her watch, is the end of the day. Which is about twenty minutes from right now.

In a flash, she’s printed the itemized list out and is out the door, briskly making her way towards Mr. Stark’s office, where two burly men are standing guard outside.

“Excuse me, I need to speak with Mr. Stark.” One of the men looks her up and down, and chuckles.

“Listen, miss. In case you couldn’t tell, he’s in the middle of something.” The other body guard chuckles at this, but doesn’t dispute it. Pepper’s brow furrows briefly before she smooths her expression and straightens her spine.

“I wasn’t asking for permission. I need to speak immediately with Mr. Stark in regard to a financial issue; I’m sure he wouldn’t be exactly pleased to know that the two of you are the reason he’s about to lose 2 billion dollars.” She smiles sweetly to punctuate the statement, her words frosty. The men exchange a look before relenting.

“Fine, but it’s your ass if you’re wrong.” The second man speaks, finally, before pushing the door open for Pepper. She nods, before entering.

She would have thought Tony was sleeping, though she wasn’t sure how, since the whole floor could hear Rhodey yelling at him for something or another, but his head snaps up the second her heel comes in contact with the carpet of his floor. His eyes are bloodshot, but he seems to be sober. Pepper doesn’t let the look on his face deter her. Instead, she steps forward, right to the edge of his desk and slides the print out of her findings across the desk. Stark stops it with one finger, raising a quizzical eyebrow at her. Rhodey has stopped talking, instead choosing to stare at her. 

“Mr. Stark, Colonel Rhodes.” She nods at them, making brief eye contact. Colonel Rhodes looks, pissed, unsurprisingly. Come to think of it, she hasn’t seen him a single time with Tony where he doesn’t look like he is patiently biding his time, looking for the perfect opportunity to bludgeon Mr. Stark to death with the closest inanimate object. Interesting. She files the thought away for a later time.

“Pray tell, Virginia. What could be oh so important that you deem it necessary to enter my office, unannounced, and interrupt my dearest platypus.” His words are almost joke-like, but his tone is irritated. Pepper would be more concerned if she wasn’t about to save his ass.

“Lay off, Tones.” Rhodey turns his soft brown eyes towards her and a slight relief that his anger isn’t directed towards her, floods her body. “Besides, it wasn’t like I was doing anything other than yell at you. If anything, you should be thanking her for interrupting.” Rhodey huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Stark looks baffled for a moment, before he dramatically throws a hand across his forehead, leaning back in his rollie-chair, eyes closed in distress. Rhodey ignores him. “What were you saying…?” He pauses, waiting for her to introduce herself and Pepper smiles.

“Pepper. Pepper Potts.” Tony drops the dramatics and looks at her, quizzically.

“Pepper? Since when? You said Virginia. Hell, your employee application says Virginia.” Pepper almost ducks her head, temporarily wondering what has driven him to look her application up. Then again, he _is_ her boss now. Of course he would review it after her impromptu promotion to his accounting team.

“I’ve gone by Pepper since I was 6 Mr. Stark. And I’m here because there’s a major error in a contract that we’re supposed to be closing tonight. You’re about to lose 2 billion dollars.” If he’s surprised by her statement, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t even so much as sigh.

“Well, for all I know you could be lying to me, Ms. Potts. It seems we aren’t even on a first name basis.” If she didn’t know better, she’d think she offended him. Thank god she knows better. Instead of answering him, she waits for him to address her previous statement.

Rhodey is the one to break the silence that descends.

“For Christ’s sake, Tony. Let the poor woman know what to do.”

Actually, Pepper has already called all the necessary people and made the proper adjustments. “I’ve already corrected everything. This was more so a formality.” Tony’s eyes twinkle, but his face is still stony.

“Well then. Seems easy enough to me. Thanks very much, you can go now, Ms. Potts.”

“Stop being a jackass, Tony. She just saved you way more money than you’re worth.” Tony sticks his tongue out at Rhodey, who ignores him and continues on. “Say ‘thank you Pepper form preventing me from spending 2 billion dollars I didn’t have.’” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Thank you, Virginia, from preventing me from spending 2 billion dollars that I definitely have and will happily spend as I chose.” Rhodey narrows his eyes and Tony blinks at him, innocently. If Pepper weren’t so fascinated with the entire exchange, she would have left by now. They both seem to remember she’s still in the room at the same and break their own eye contact to look at her. She’s suddenly very grateful that she learned to school her expression a long time ago.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave. I’ll leave the paperwork; you’re going to need to sign that document again. If you fax it to me, I’ll make sure the right people take care of the rest.” She’s already turned to go, her hand poised to push the door open, when Tony speaks up.

“Be my personal assistant.”

“Tony—” Rhodey starts. She can hear hushed whispering, so she turns around slowly. They immediately stop. Tony grins impishly and Rhodey simply closes his eyes and shakes his head, lips pursed.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Be my assistant.” Tony has slid out of his chair at this, and begun to mess with the pendulum on his desk. The soft clicking disarms her and she bites her lip.

“No.” Tony’s eyebrows shoot up, and he immediately stills the pendulum.

“Now I think it’s my turn to ask, beg your pardon?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea Mr. Stark.”

“Tony.” He corrects. She ignores it. “And explain to me exactly why.” Pepper could explain a lot of things to him.

_I don’t know you. I don’t trust you. I’m fascinated by you._ She decides none of these are what he’s really looking for in terms of an answer. “Well. I’m still very new to the company,” Tony rolls his eyes, but doesn’t interrupt her. Yet. “I’m still learning the ropes of the accounting department. Plus, I’ve never been anyone’s personal assistant.”

“No, that’s right, you’ve only, what, been an art curator for some of the most high profile people in Paris, right?” Pepper simply stares at him, waiting. “I feel like, knowing someone intimately enough to pick out the art that decorates their homes, may qualify you to be someone’s personal assistant.” Pepper lets out a short breath through her nose as he reasons it out to himself. “Plus, what’s the point in learning the ropes, as you so eloquently put it, of the accounting department, when clearly, I need your observant eyes on my shit—stuff, I meant stuff—to prevent me from spending another 2 billion on something stupid and personal.” His argument isn’t the strongest. But, she also gets the feeling that he’s not really trying to convince her. Something tells her this might not be something she can opt out of. “And I’ll double your salary. You’ll need it. Plus, accounting pay is shit. So you know what, maybe I’ll triple it. I don’t know, we can work out all the—” he waves a hand in the air, thinking of the word, “—kinks.”

She’s already said yes to a double salaried before. It’s how she ended up here. But she’s got to admit, it’s incredibly tempting. So, she becomes his personal assistant for a few months, so what? She’s got a house that is in desperate need of some repairs and the extra money wouldn’t kill her.

“Alright, fine. On one condition.” Tony’s brows raise again and she can almost feel Rhodey’s breath stop. She supposed people didn’t typically give men like Tony conditions.

“And that would be..?”

“I need one full day a week off. Outside of that, I can be there for your beck and call. But, on my off day, I don’t want to receive calls, texts, emails, nothing. Nada.”

“Done.” Tony raps his knuckles against the desk and beams. “Sunday’s ok for you?” Pepper nods. “Great. Take the rest of this week off. You’re going to need it. I’ll see you Monday.” And just like that, he turns back to Rhodey and resumes the argument they’d had been going at each other for before her entrance. Taking this as her cue to leave, she turns around and heads out into the hall. As she walks out the door, she hears their voices drop into whispers again, Rhodey seemingly berating him.

“…you just lost your last assistant. And now you want to hire some young woman who’s never even been anyone’s personal assistant! Not only that, but…” she can’t slow down to listen, or she knows they will notice. Instead, she sacrifices the potential knowledge that simple ‘but’ provides, opens the door, and steps out into the hallway and new possibilities.


	2. Chapter 2

She learns a lot the next few months as his assistant. The first being, he’s an alcoholic. A highly functioning alcoholic. But an alcoholic nonetheless.

The first night that sparks this discovery is when he calls her at 2 am. She’s half asleep picking up, but manages to school her sleep voice into her work voice in the 2.5 seconds she takes fumbling to answer.

“Hi, Mr. Stark. What can I do for you?”

“How are you always so prepared?” Ironically, his question catches her off guard. She sits up, slipping her feet into the soft, worn slippers by the side of her bed, pulling her robe on as she adjusts to keep the phone close to her ear.

“That’s kind of my job, sir.” He giggles on the line, and she can make out shouting and what sounds like dance music in the background.

“Hmmm, well I could think of some additions to your job, if you’d like.” She rolls her eyes, and moves into her closet, rummaging around for her coat. She’s used to this kind of rhetoric after working for him for three months now.

“Where are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’m assuming not with Happy.”

“Ugh, for someone named Happy, he’s certainly capable of really putting a damper on things.” She feels her shoulders tighten with his words. If he’s not with Happy, god only knows where he’s gotten off too. “You know, it’s New Year’s Eve, Ms. Potts. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

“You know as well as I do that we have about 8 hours worth of paperwork to complete tomorrow for the start of the new quarter. At least one of us needs to be sober.” He snorts at that and then there’s a lot of fumbling; it seems he’s dropped the phone. Pepper holds her breath and hopes he doesn’t accidentally hang up.

When he seems to get his bearings again, he asks. “Why do you keep working for me then? Especially when I keep calling you on your off days.” Pepper sighs, removing her slippers and tucking the phone into the crook of her shoulder as she pulls on some sneakers. This is shockingly the first time he’s called her on one of her designated off days. She’s not really sure what he does with his Sunday’s and he has yet to ask her what she’s done with hers. Which is to say, not much else aside from sleep. She’s barely been able to make herself stay awake long enough to continue renovations on Saffron’s house. She ended up renting an apartment in the city close to work to keep up with everything, which had made it even harder to get back to the state of disarray that she had left Saffron’s house in.

“Can you tell me where you’re at so I can come get you?”

He laughs, lightly again. “You’re really good at changing the subject. Did your dad hit you too?” Pepper winces and apparently doesn’t answer fast enough because his tone is suddenly very sobering. “Shit. I’m sorry Ms. Potts. That was too personal, wasn’t it?” She pulls the phone away and lets out a shaky breath. She’d heard rumors around the office about Howard Stark’s parenting methods, but had chosen to not get involved when approached by the other executive’s assistants for the “juicy details” as they chose to put it. When she puts the phone back to her ear, he’s quiet. “You don’t have to answer.” She opts not to.

“Can you send me your location?” her voice is barely a whisper, so she’s not sure he’s heard her at first.

Her phone sings suddenly, and she assumes it’s from Jarvis. But the number is unknown. Tony seems to read her mind. “I lost my phone.” She checks the number on her screen and sees that it’s not a saved contact. If she hadn’t of picked up, it’s not like she would have been blamed. She’s really only supposed to be answering calls on this phone if they’re directly from Tony. Oh, well. They’re already here.

“I’m on my way. Are you somewhere safe? I’ve got to put this in my GPS.” She can practically feel the eye roll he’s attempting on the other line.

“God, Ms. Potts will you PLEASE just let me give you a Stark phone.”

“Ok, Mr. Stark. I’ll be there in 20. Please stay out of trouble.” She disconnects the call before he can ask even more personal questions, and pulls up the address in her GPS. He’s in an alley way behind some more than likely run-down club named Spoons. So, this is what he does with his Sunday’s. She always assumed he was hungover on Monday mornings since his trusty pair of dark sunglasses rarely left his face before 2 pm. Guess she’s got her answer. Sighing, she grabs her house keys and calls Happy.

Seeing that it’s 2:15 am, it takes about two full phone calls for Happy to finally wake up.

“Potts? Why are you calling me? Is Tony alright?” She rubs her forehead.

“He’s fine. Or he’s about to be.” She hears shuffling on the end, presumably Happy getting up.

“Where is he? I’ll pick him up.”

“I’m on my way. All I have is my bike though, my car is getting repaired. I know you’re about an hour away. I’m going to at least go meet him and make sure he’s not getting the shit beat out of him for opening his big mouth.” Happy chuckles gruffly.

“Alright. I’ll see you in an hour. Call me if shit goes sideways in the meantime.” The line goes dead and Pepper shoots him a text while debating calling Rhodey. She decides against it and collects her bike from the bottom of her apartment stairwell and makes her way to Tony’s last known location.

It’s freezing. And snowing. But she doesn’t let that stop her. She bikes 3 miles from her apartment to the club he’s at, and she thinks she’d be sweating if she weren’t so damn cold. Her coat is barely keeping her warm. It’s been a while since she’s bought a new one, in hindsight, not her best decision seeing as she lives in New Fucking York. It’s the first snow of the season and arguably the coldest day of the year. Her teeth are chattering when she finds him, sprawled out across cardboard boxes in the back of the alley, behind the dumpster. The snow seems to evaporate around him, never really landing on him, except for in those dark curls. His eyes are closed, and as she draws closer, she sees snowflakes on his eyelashes as well, a stark contrast to the soft darkness that frames his eyes. She’s too busy drinking in the sight of him that she almost forgets why she’s here.

God, when did she become such a lovestruck fool?

Lovestruck.

The word feels like lightning in her mind and she almost recoils. She’s not...in love. There’s no way. Before she can process the intrusive thoughts that just overcame her, Tony stirs.

He’s not even close to sober. His eyes are bloodshot and he gives her a beaming, drunk smile. “Pepper! You came!” She’s off of her bike in seconds and steps towards him quickly, bending down to assist him in standing up. Tony’s hands are warm, all of him is warm in fact. She supposes drinking enough will do that to you. “I didn’ think you woul’. Everyone tends to disappoint me in those aspects. ‘Suppose it’s prob’ly my fault,” His words are slurred and his breath fans over her face but Pepper refuses to breath in. She’s smelled men with this much alcohol in their systems before and she knows the scent of it will bring up memories she’d rather not revisit right now. She huffs, hoisting him up. “But not you,” Tony continues, undeterred by her lack of response. “You’re always there. Even when I want to be alone. You’re funny like that. I don’ think I’ve ever known someone as dependable as you. Even my dearest—” He pauses to hiccup, “—platypus gets tired of me sometimes.” She doesn’t want to tell him the thought that flashes through her mind; she understands why. He can be exhausting. She’s been privy to several _conversations_ Rhodey has had with him, and after four months of working directly for him, she’s seen the kind of damage one night out can cause before. However, she’s never seen him have a night like this before. Sure, he likes to have fun. Sometimes he drinks a little more than he should. Not to mention the wall of liquor in his office. But he’s usually fairly responsible. She has to remind herself that everyone has bad days.

“How’s it you’re so good to me?” His eyes are an endless brown and for the first time she sees little flecks of gold dancing in the low light of the back alley. They’ve never been this close to each other’s faces before. Forgetting to hold her breath, she inhales. He smells like cinnamon and clove and whiskey. It’s probably the first time she hasn’t minded the scent of alcohol this close to her. His eyes are sincere, staring into what feels like her soul.

“Well, you pay me to do so.” She regrets the words as they turn to vapor in the air because almost immediately, the warmth in his eyes disappears and Tony’s shoulders droop. She tugs him closer to her, looping his arm over her shoulder so she can inch them along and out of the alley way. “I’m kidding, Mr. Stark. I care about you.” Tony just chuckles bitterly.

“Don’ blame you, ‘m a lot to handle.” Pepper nudges her hip gently against his.

“Everyone is a lot to handle. You’re just the right amount for you.” Tony just laughs again at that.

“Oh, really Ms. Potts?”

“Really.” She affirms, finally tugging him out of the alley way and into the street. She knows it’s late because the street is completely empty around them. The only cars are all parked and it’s so quiet she can practically hear the snow landing softly on the pavement. Despite the inches of precipitation, Pepper decides the curb is the best place to wait. Tony doesn’t protest.

By the time she manages to get them to the nearest streetlamp, they’re both panting. The only upside, is Tony hasn’t tried to press any further on tricky topics. That, and she’s gotten about 10 degrees warmer tugging him along.

Kicking snow out of the way, she starts to settle him into a squat, gently trying to steer him into a full sit. When he finally manages to get adjusted, she plops down next to him, huffing. She attempts to blow several strands of damp hair out of her eyes, but is unable to force them to budge. Suddenly, Tony’s hand, surprisingly nimble for someone in his current state of sobriety, is brushing the wet strands gently out of the way. She freezes, and he lets his hand fall. Then, his head is on her shoulder. Pepper isn’t sure how to breathe for a minute.

“God, Ms. Potts. You’re intoxicating.” His voice is strained. She doesn’t think she can feel her fingers, and all she can do is watch her breath turn into fog before her. “Sorry.” Tony intones, almost immediately.

“Happy should be here in about 5 minutes.” She responds, clearing her throat briefly before speaking.

“Thas good,” His voice is quiet, the liquor still slurring his words.

“He’s going to drive us back to your place, I’m going to get you cleaned up and put to bed with some Tylenol and water for tomorrow morning. I’ll set your alarm for 10 am and I’ll just tell the board you had a last-minute meeting.” If he hears her, he doesn’t show it.

They wait in silence for the next 5 minutes.

When Happy arrives, she sees that he is fully bundled up. He’s driving a sleek black SUV and his cheeks are a ruddy red the moment he gets out to help her load Tony in. They make quick work of it, and when they’ve finally got Tony settled, he offers her a strained smile.

“You need a ride too?”

“I was planning on putting him to bed.” The snow falls around them and Happy nods, running his hand down his face.

“Ok, I’ll go grab your bike.” She nods and points him in the direction of the alley-way they came out of before turning and letting herself into the back of the SUV. She sits behind the passenger seat close enough to Tony that she can help him if he starts to feel sick. He’s currently got his forehead pressed against the glass, breath creating fog. She’s suddenly struck with a memory of driving down a dark road, headlights the only thing lighting the road up for miles to come, her own breath warm against a cold window, her father’s eyes meeting her own in the review mirror. She shakes the memory away and sighs.

“You alrigh?” Tony questions, voice barely distinguishable.

“Certainly, Mr. Stark.”

“Do you do tha’ every time?” His dark eyes are hooded, but he’s looking at her regardless.

“And what exactly is that, Mr. Stark?” He sighs, and drops his body into the middle of the seat, stretching out. Pepper freezes. He’s so close to her, but she won’t be the one to move first.

“Avoid the question. You did it earlier. And stop calling me Mr. Stark. Not to be cliché or whatever, but that was my dad’s name,” Shit. She’s not so sure he’s as drunk as he may appear.

“I don’t think I avoided the question. I answered.” It’s true, she didn’t ignore him this time. While her answer may be a masquerade, she’s certainly not going to admit to it. She gave him an answer, so technically his observation is incorrect.

_That’s a technicality Dad would use._ Saffron’s voice rings, clear as day through her mind.

_Shut up._ She reminds it.

Tony seems to notice she’s having an internal conversation, because he’s still watching her, dark brown eyes warm as ever. He hums and lets his eyelids shut. He starts to readjust himself, head eventually ending up in Pepper’s lap. She doesn’t move an inch, hands rising up out of her lap as soon as he completes the movement. She’s not sure where to put them now, so she grabs her phone.

She knows, if it were anyone else trying to do this, she wouldn’t be allowing it. But something about Tony is different. It’s like they’re two sides of the same coin. She is inexplicably drawn to him. He wants to call her intoxicating, but he’s like a forest fire. Raging, smothering, but bringing about a new life.

_Where the fuck is Happy?_ Pepper shakes her head briefly at the thought and pretends to text someone. Tony doesn’t so much as budge.

“I think you might have more secrets than me, Potts.” Pepper glances down at him, but his eyes are still closed.

Suddenly, the trunk opens and Happy is panting, shoving her bike in the vinyl-matt covered space behind their seats. Tony flinches at the sound, but keeps his position. Just as quickly as Happy had appeared, he’s gone, shutting the door with a slam. Then, he’s in the driver’s seat, keys in the ignition, making his way towards some destination Pepper has yet to visit. For a personal assistant, she certainly hasn’t done anything too personal in terms of seeing Tony’s home.

About five minutes into the hour and a half drive home, Tony has not moved from being splayed out in the backseat, head still on Pepper’s lap.

About ten minutes into that, he is asleep.

She can tell by the way his breathing dips into a slower, steady beat. She’s a little jealous that he can fall asleep so quickly. She sends a little prayer of gratitude to whatever being made her go to sleep at 8 pm earlier that night. She has a feeling she won’t be getting much sleep outside of that. She realizes, absentmindedly, that she has begun to run her fingers through his hair. It’s surprisingly soft. She had thought it would be stiff with some sort of product, and while that may be the case usually, it’s currently soft. Be it from the snow that has been falling in it for the past forty minutes or from whatever partying he had accomplished before her arrival, she’s not sure.

She doesn’t know what comes over her, but with him here, sprawled across the backseat, head in her lap, she can’t help it. She leans forward, a curtain of coppery hair slipping over their faces as she gently kisses his forehead. He doesn’t stir as she gently resumes combing her fingers through the thick, dark locks of hair. When she lifts her head again, Happy is looking at her in the review mirror. Their eyes meet, but he breaks the contact first. She stares out the window the rest of the drive home.

When they get back to his house, she can suddenly understand why he might not want to come home. It’s cold and empty from the outward appearance alone, so she can’t even begin to imagine what it might be like inside.

High-vaulted walls made of glass rise up, but there is no visibility to the inside. Privacy reasons, she assumes. Cold white marble and concrete seem to make up the remainder of the exterior that isn’t covered in glass. She can make out the sound of the ocean pounding against a cliff that the house resides and wonders how far exactly they drove. Happy seems to read her mind.

“We can all just crash here tonight. We’ll get him in bed and he’s got a million guest rooms. I’ll have Jarvis send someone over with some clothes for you in the morning, you can borrow something to change into so you don’t freeze,” He’s whispering, assuming Tony is still asleep. Pepper knows better. He’s just faking now, his breathing returned to normal. She nods at Happy’s words, regardless.

They drive up the rest of the winding driveway and into a garage that is connected to the house. It’s filled with an absurd amount of cars, some vintage, some new. She refrains from rolling her eyes at the sight. Happy parks in what she can only assume is designated parking and makes quick work in getting her bike out of the back seat. In a flash, he’s got the back door open and is gently nudging Tony awake. She assists in gently corralling Tony off of her lap and semi-out the door and into Happy’s burly arms. As soon as Tony is leaning against the body guard, she slips out of her side of the car and makes her way to the two men to assist. Tony is still fairly drunk and he slumps between them. If she wasn’t so on edge from the conversations she’d been having all night, she’d probably laugh at the Weekend-at-Bernie’s-esque situation unfolding in real time between her and Happy.

They somehow manage to get to his elevator, which leads directly to his room. Classy. She’d roll her eyes another time. They manage to get him into the bathroom and out of his coat and most parts of his suit. Tony is limp like putty between them, malleable and easy to get out of his suit and into pajamas. She lets Happy take care of that aspect, seating herself on the edge of the tub while she waits and pretends to check her email.

When Happy is somewhat satisfied with his state of dress, he takes his leave, giving Pepper a quick glance as he hits the button for the elevator. She just shakes her head briefly at him, and he gets on by himself when the doors open. Tony is half-asleep at this point, but she manages to get him to brush his teeth, though she’s not sure how good of a job he does. She supposes he will be fine until morning; at least by then his breath won’t taste like whiskey when he wakes up. If he sleeps the rest of the night through, that is.

“Happy New Year, Ms. Potts,” He’s barely leaning against her as she helps walk him to the bed. He drops on it as soon as they’re close enough and looks up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time since they left the car.

“Happy New Year, Mr. Stark.” She gestures for him to make himself comfortable, and makes herself busy tidying up his room. She turns to look at him, and he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s staring at her, shoulders slumped, eyes full of something she can’t quite explain.

“Don’t leave me.” His voice is barely a whisper, but the room is so quiet, Pepper can’t ignore it.

“I’m not going to.” She doesn’t meet his eyes as she makes a promise she’s not sure she can keep.

“Everyone says that at first.” He intones, tugging his gray undershirt off, and onto the floor. Pepper retrieves it, but not first before noting the long scar that ran along his left side, under his armpit and down his side, all the way to the end of his hip and trailing towards his abdomen. She must stare a beat too long because Tony quickly pulls the sheets up over himself. “It’s okay.” Pepper bites her lip, but nods anyways.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he parrots back, tugging the sheets to his chin and curling inwards. Pepper hums, still biting her lip. “A story for another time,” He explains. She doesn’t press any further.

“Can I get you anything else, Mr. Stark?” she makes her way to the door, folding his shirt over her arm, glancing briefly at him. He’s already snoring, head tucked deeply in the soft downy pillow. Something akin to a smile flits over her lips at the sight and she sighs.

“I’m not everyone.” Her voices echoes in the room that holds no listeners.

**____________________________________________**

When Tony wakes up, Pepper is already gone.

They don’t talk about that Sunday night again.

Pepper thinks he might not remember it.

She isn’t going to be the one to remind him.

**____________________________________________**

Despite the lack of acknowledgement of the situation, their entire understanding of each other seems to have shifted suddenly. He’s still a cocky, arrogant asshole every time she sees him. But she’s now seen the side of him that few and far between get too. He knows it. She knows it. Hell, she’s pretty sure Rhodey even knows it. If Tony didn’t tell him on his own, he’s certainly sensed the tension that seems to follow them from room to room.

That’s why, when he traps her in the break room, she’s unsurprised.

“So.” She’s stirring her coffee with one of those little wooden sticks. Why doesn’t anyone ever just provide spoons? These things barely work. “What exactly happened between you two?”

Pepper doesn’t even spare Rhodey a glance. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Rhodey lets out a laugh that comes from deep inside him. Like he knows she’s a liar.

“Oh sure, Ms. Potts.” She shoots him a look over her shoulder.

“Pepper.” She reminds him. Tony is the only one who calls her that. She didn’t know it would bother her when someone else would try it out. Rhodey rolls his eyes knowingly.

“Mmhm.” He doesn’t sound the slightest bit interested in what she prefers her refer to her as but he doesn’t call her Potts again. “Listen, Pepper. This isn’t like a short-term thing. He’s attached. He’s…” he pauses, thinking. “He’s been through a lot of shit.” Pepper nods at his words, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I’m aware.” Rhodey shakes his head.

“You’re not. Not really.” He runs a hand down his face. “Do you know how long I’ve known him?” She shakes her head, no. “Since we were freshman in college. So, I was 18. He was 15.” Pepper blinks. She knew he was smart, but she hadn’t known this. “He didn’t have his shit together at all, Pepper. He was reckless. And I do mean reckless. He went from an environment where his every little move was watched, criticized and controlled into the world of adults. He’d never had the proper guidance outside of Jarvis and Maria. And even they couldn’t control Howard.” Rhodey’s eyes are dark at some memory Pepper isn’t privy too.

“I know what having a shitty dad is like.” Pepper murmurs into her mug. Rhodey clearly hears her, and he nods, unjudgmental. “A lot of growing up is learning to fix the mistakes our parents made.” She clears her throat and leans against the counter. “But as far as I’m concerned, Tony is my boss. There’s nothing to be on the lookout for, because there’s nothing else there.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself of her own words, even to herself. 

“I can respect that Pepper. But he sees you as a lot more than just his personal assistant.” Pepper doesn’t let the words affect her facial expression. “I just think you should be aware.” She nods, slowly. “I’m not trying to scare you off or anything.” Rhodey sighs and shrugs. “..it’s just—I don’t see him,” He pauses. “I haven’t seen him interested in anything in a long time. I think you might be good for him.” She understands the weight and expectations that his words carry.

She’s never been one for that kind of responsibility. It’s why she left the states in the first place. There was too much pressure for her to be this person that people expected. She was the one who had to be responsible. She had to look out for Saffron. She had to make sure the bills got paid at the right time, while Richard was sprawled out on the couch, or on the floor next to the couch, reeking of alcohol and too drunk to try and make his way to his own bedroom. She was the one that made sure Saffron got to school on time, and that their teachers didn’t ask too many questions. She’d kept their family together, even though she knew now she should have asked for help.

But with Rhodey’s earnest brown gaze boring into her own pale blue eyes, she knows she can’t say no. She’s in too deep now. She doesn’t think she’d use the life float if it was thrown to her now, anyways.

“Don’t worry, Rhodey. I’m tougher than I look. I can handle a little bit of family trauma.” Rhodey smiles, and Pepper wonders when she got so good at lying.

**Author's Note:**

> The whole accounting scene is based off of how Tony and Pepper originally meet in the comics. But in this house we believe in Pepper Potts supremacy, because she's a bad bitch who fixes things herself. Part two coming soon (:


End file.
